


As Cold As The Valley

by Lothiriel84



Category: John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: Even the snowman hates the snow.





	As Cold As The Valley

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myx/gifts).



By the time he arrived home he was chilled to the bone, and way beyond exhausted. As much as he loved his job, today had been an utter nightmare – driving a jam-packed train on snow and ice-coated rails, dealing with an avalanche of red signals and the ever-present fear of finding themselves stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the freezing cold. And if that wasn’t enough, most of the trams had been cancelled too, which meant he’d had to face a thirty-minute walk in the snow, and he discovered that even his lovely fur coat could do very little against the storm.

He searched his jacket pockets for his key, his numb fingers struggling to turn it into the lock. As the front door opened he was greeted by a waft of warm air and a delicious smell, and a moment later, the slightly incongruous sight of Dylan wearing a ridiculous floral apron, looking all warm and cosy and decidedly welcoming.

“Oh, hello David,” he grinned, waving a fish slice in his general direction. “We were sent home early due to the snowstorm, so I thought I might as well come to yours and make you dinner.”

David blinked, let Dylan help him out of his snow-covered coat. “Dinner?” he repeated, at length. “But you never cook.”

“Well, we both know you’re the better cook,” Dylan nodded cheerfully. “Still, my Dad has finally relented, and taught me his secret recipe for his famous fish and chips. I hope you’ll like the result.”

“Hmm. If they taste as good as they smell, I’m definitely going to.”

He followed Dylan into the kitchen, only stopping for a moment to sneakily take a picture of him in that terrible apron. He smiled between himself, then put the phone back into his pocket.


End file.
